


the camera loves you, ain't that enough?

by natalie_nebula



Series: weekend memories [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Artist Bucky Barnes, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Complete, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, sequel to A day in the life of Steve Rogers, weekend memories series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:34:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22730323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalie_nebula/pseuds/natalie_nebula
Summary: He heard it again, right behind him: Click!“Are you taking pictures of me?” Steve turned on a dime and saw Bucky, lurking in the kitchen doorway, holding his phone out in front of him.“Uh…no—” Bucky swiftly and clumsily moved to hide the device behind his back, almost dropping it on the floor in the process.Steve turned to face him, resting his hands on his hips. “Then what were you doing?”“Aren’t you supposed to be cooking?”“Oh, so now you’re worried about dinner.”---Steve starts to get suspicious when Bucky won't stop following him around the house with his phone camera.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: weekend memories [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1399582
Comments: 2
Kudos: 102





	the camera loves you, ain't that enough?

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentines Day! My goal was to post for the holiday and I *technically* met that goal so I'm proud of myself. May go back and edit this a little in the future, but I'm happy to get it out to you guys cuz I think it's really cute <3 Once again, this takes places after "they'll hang us in the louvre" so Steve and Bucky are out to the public. This can be read by itself, but if you enjoy it, it's part of a series of post-Endgame fix it fics starting with "A day in the life of Steve Rogers" (my Endgame ending rewrite), so be sure to check those out! Reviews keep me going and I love to read them! I try to respond to everyone at least once~ Also if you have any suggestions/wanna shoot me a prompt or anything like that, leave a review or DM me on twitter @budgetzendaya. Hope you enjoy <3
> 
> p.s. DON'T go through people's phones! And don't take people's pictures without permission! Steve and Bucky are fools.

Steve didn’t consider himself the type to go through his lover’s phone and snoop around. He wasn’t suspicious of Bucky, and he’d _never_ want to betray his trust like that. But…that didn’t mean he wasn’t _curious_. 

At this point, Bucky pretty much had unrestricted access to Steve’s sketchbook, or more accurately, now that he knew Steve was willing to share, he was too  easily capable of  physically overpowering Steve to look at his paper for Steve to bother hiding it anymore. 

“ _Another_ drawing of me, bud? _Wow_ , if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had a crush on me or somethin’—” 

“Oh _fuck_ off, ya big jerk.” Steve scoffed and playfully shoved Bucky off of his shoulder. “‘Not even grateful anymore for all the attention I give you. You know somebody else drawin’ candid portraits of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes all day?”

Steve could tell Bucky was smirking at him without having to turn around. “Nobody else knows how to draw me like you do, doll.” He leaned back over, aiming to give Steve a kiss on the cheek. He missed and it landed on the edge of his jaw instead. Steve smiled and reached up to scratch at the prickly hairs under Bucky’s chin. 

He was curled up in his armchair in the sunroom, enjoying the afternoon light from the huge windows that faced the back garden. Bucky had some time off after his last mission, and was wandering around the house, pretending to read or do chores, but always ending up back in the sunroom with Steve. He figured Buck would attribute it so some type of gravitational force between them—but Steve could tell he was just feeling cuddly and was too embarrassed to say anything about it. 

“Y’know Buck,” Steve said, wiping some eraser shavings from his paper, “They say artists are attracted to beauty.” 

“Mhm, yeah Stevie…” Bucky replied. That was code for _I’m not actually listening,_ so Steve turned his attention back to his drawing, that is, until he heard a familiar “ _click_ ” sound coming from Bucky’s phone.

“Hey!” He turned around immediately. “What’re you doing? I’m not done drawin’ yet!” He tried to grab the phone from Bucky’s hands but the other man was too tall, his arms too long (and toned, and muscular…). Steve wiggled around in the chair for a minute, trying desperately to see the picture on the screen, but Bucky wouldn’t let him. 

“It’s not a picture of your _picture,_ doll, I promise!” He stuffed the phone in his back pocket where Steve absolutely could not reach it without getting up.

“Then what’s it a picture of?” Steve crossed his arms over his chest and huffed.

Bucky shot him back another one of his classic ladykiller smiles. “None of your business, bud.” Then he walked off with his phone and his secrets in hand, leaving Steve alone to wonder (and worry);

_What the hell is that man up to…_

* * *

Later that evening, it was Steve’s turn to make dinner. 

“Buck, _move,_ I’m tryna cook for you!” He was in the middle of shoving Bucky out of the way with his hip for the third time in the past ten minutes. 

“M’ just tryna help, babe.” He grabbed another potato cube and popped it in his mouth.

“I already told you, you can help by getting your big butt out of my way.” Steve had to turn his head away when he lifted the lid on the huge pot of beef stew sitting on the stove. 

“Sure you don’t need me to cut any more vegetables?” Steve could hear that his mouth was still full.

He scoffed and shook his head. “At the rate you’re eating them you might have to, so _scram._ ” This time, Steve shoved with his shoulder, shooing Bucky away from the counter so he could grab the cutting board covered in potato chunks Carefully, he tipped the board over the stewpot, slowly stirring in the new ingredients with a wooden spoon. “Should be done in about fifteen minutes, Buck, just be patient.” 

“Yeah, yeah…” Bucky’s voice barely carried from all the way in the other room, but Steve was glad to finally have him out of his hair so he could finish dinner in peace. He stood there for a moment, enjoying the quiet sounds of the water bubbling, taking in the comforting smell of meat and fresh vegetables. Then, he heard it again, right behind him: _Click!_

“Are you _taking_ _pictures of me_?” Steve turned on a dime and saw Bucky, lurking in the kitchen doorway, holding his phone out in front of him. 

“Uh… _no_ —” Bucky swiftly and clumsily moved to hide the device behind his back, almost dropping it on the floor in the process. 

Steve turned to face him, resting his hands on his hips. “Then what were you doing?” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be cooking?”

Steve laughed, “Oh, so _now_ you’re worried about dinner.” 

Eventually, Steve finished preparing his stew uninterrupted, and they enjoyed their meal together, and the sneaky picture topic didn’t come up again while they ate. But that didn’t mean Steve was about to let Bucky off easy. 

* * *

“Hey Steve?”

“Pfftt—yeah Buck?” Steve turned his head towards Buck after spitting his toothpaste into the sink. 

“Have you seen my phone charger?” He was wandering around the bedroom aimlessly, picking up throw pillows and opening drawers. 

Steve sighed, fiddling with the toothbrush in his hand. “Have you checked your work bag?” 

Bucky’s head shot up. “Uh…not yet.”

Steve smiled and turned back towards the sink, continuing to brush his teeth. He took a moment to observe himself in the mirror. His skin was paler, his cheeks and nose pinker, than when he had the serum. His blue eyes looked bigger set into a slimmer face. He didn’t _feel_ younger, his bones creaking when he moved, so it was easy to forget sometimes that he looked the part. He set his toothbrush down on the edge of the sink and reached up to touch his face, running his fingertips gently along his jaw. Funny to think that just a few years ago, he had a full beard for the first and last time in his life. 

_Click!_

“ _Bucky_!” He spun around so fast that he almost knocked his toothbrush off the sink. Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed, phone held up in front of his smiling face. Steve frowned. “You didn’t even go downstairs, did you—”

“I got distracted.” He dropped the phone on the bed beside him and settled his hands in his lap, openly trailing his eyes up and down Steve’s body. 

Steve blushed, covering himself with his hands without thinking. “Go get your charger, Buck.”

“Yes, Captain,” Bucky replied, giving Steve a half-hearted salute as he sauntered out of the room. Steve gave him a smack on the ass for his troubles. 

He listened to the sound of Bucky’s footsteps as he made the way down the stairs. Then, something on the bed caught his eye. 

_Bucky’s phone._ Steve turned back towards the open bedroom door and listened as best he could to see if Bucky was on his way back up. After a few moments of silence, he swiftly hopped on the bed, snatching up the phone and burying himself under the covers with it. Despite the fact that Bucky certainly had the same SHIELD security briefings that he’d been forced to sit through back in the day, he also knew that Buck’s password was always some variation of “1917,” so he had no trouble unlocking the device. The problem came when he couldn’t bring himself to open up the photos app and snoop around.

Steve sighed, his finger hovering tentatively over the little icon. He _knew_ you weren’t supposed to go through your partner’s phone—Nat and Sam had taught him as much when he used to bombard them with embarrassing tech questions. But Buck was being so _obvious_ , barely hiding that he was taking sneaky pictures. And if Steve was being honest with himself, there was a tiny, silly part of him that wanted to know how he looked. 

He realized he may not have time to make the choice himself; Bucky’s heavy footfall coming up the stairs was getting louder by the second. He reflexively opened the app, and a certain album immediately caught his eye. It had around 20 photos in it and it was labelled _babydoll_ <3 _._

“Found it—” Bucky was right outside the door. Panicked, Steve tossed the phone towards the edge of the bed and buried himself in further under the covers, pretending to sleep. He heard the clatter of the phone falling on the ground alongside the door creaking open as Bucky stepped inside.

“Bud?” He listened as Buck wandered over to the side of the bed, picking the phone up off the floor. Bucky padded over to his nightstand, and Steve heard the familiar digital chime of the phone being plugged in. He kept his eyes closed as the larger man climbed into bed beside him, gently spooning him from behind. He groaned. “G’night, bud.” 

Steve remained completely still. He sat, eyes closed, breath as even as he could make it, thinking about those 20 photos while Bucky’s muscles slowly relaxed, cocooning him like a warm weighted blanket. 

His own body was finally starting to settle when he heard a loud _buzz_ coming from his bedside table. He resisted the urge to shoot right up and shut it off, instead feigning sleep and slowly emerging from under the covers to drag his phone into the bed.

“Mmm…what is it?” Bucky mumbled, his eyes still closed. Steve squinted at the bright light emanating from the screen. It was a _long_ text from Pepper. He opened it, and his brows rose immediately. 

_Hi Steve! So sorry to bother you so late at night. Hope I didn’t wake you._

_I know this is veeerrryyy last minute, but a friend of mine is holding a charity gala for homeless LGBTQ youth in Vegas tomorrow night, and I was wondering if you and Bucky could come?_

_It’s all paid for and you’ll be back the following day. It’ll be a lot of fun!_

_Let me know and I’ll send a car over in the morning._

_Much love! <3 - Pep _

Bucky was leaned over his shoulder now, presumably reading along with him. “Y’wanna go?” He asked, his voice gravelly and low (and unintentionally sultry). 

Steve turned and looked up at him, at the stunning silhoutte of his face in the dark. “Only if you want to, Buck. It’s your day off, after all.”

Bucky worried his lip for a moment, thinking. He tilted his head and smiled down at Steve. “Sounds like it could be fun, huh?”

Steve smiled back. “So that’s a yes, then?”

He promptly texted Pepper back and they fell asleep tangled up in each other’s arms. 

* * *

The sun was barely up as they loaded into the black car idling outside their townhouse. Steve sat on the front steps, bundled up in his coat and a huge scarf that Wanda had knitted for him (it fit more like a blanket slung over his slim shoulders). He watched Bucky chat with the driver while he loaded their small luggage. He smiled and buried himself further into the blanket scarf, remembering the feeling of Bucky’s arms wrapped around him earlier that morning.

Then his heart sunk a little, watching Bucky pull his phone out to tell the driver about their flight, remembering his snooping from earlier that night.

His own phone buzzed and he looked down at his lap to check it.

_1 new message from Pepper_

_all set?_

As Steve typed back a response, he heard an all too familiar sound— _click_ —and looked up. Bucky was standing in front of him with a smile on his face, his phone held out in front of him. 

“Ready to go, bud?”

Steve shook his head and chuckled under his breath.

“Yeah, Buck.”

They both slipped their phones in their pockets, then Buck slipped his hands under Steve’s armpits and hoisted him up into his arms to carry him to the car (normally Steve would protest such babying, but he was tired and cold and he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth).

The roads were fairly clear, and the ride was smooth in the backseat of the town car. The driver had closed the little window between them, so he and Bucky were alone back there, holding hands on the center console like they were kids. 

Bucky was looking out the window, seemingly content, but Steve knew he could sense his anxiety when he felt an extra strong squeeze. He spoke without turning around.

“You doin’ alright, bud?” 

Steve sighed and looked down at his empty hand in his lap. “Y’know last night at dinner? When I asked you about all those pictures you were takin’ of me?”

“Oh yeah, about that—” Bucky let out a little laugh. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you about it first.” Steve felt Bucky gently scratching at his palm. “I just—what’s that thing you do? Where you draw somebody who’s not really posing, they’re just—”

“Y’mean a candid?”

“Yeah, that. A candid.”

“You were taking candids of me, Buck?” Steve turned to face him, the corner of his lip curling into a smile. Now Bucky was the one looking down into his lap. Steve sent him over an encouraging squeeze.

He stuttered, “Like I said, Stevie, I’m really sorry—”

“No, no, it’s ok Buck!” Steve moved his hand up his metal arm, feeling the artificial muscles twitch. He chuckled softly. “I was the one who was gonna apologize to _you…_ for snooping through your phone.”

Bucky was silent for a moment, and Steve assumed the worst (because of _course_ he did). The car went over a bump that rattled Steve in his seat, and Bucky let out a _huge_ belly laugh.

“God we’re so _stupid_!”

Steve couldn’t help himself from laughing either.

Bucky slung his left arm over Steve’s shoulder and tugged him close, and Steve reveled in the warmth spreading between them. He lifted up the center console, tucking it into the seat back, and slid as close to Bucky as he could with his seatbelt on. He settled his head around Bucky’s armpit, watching his chest rise and fall.

“You never told me _why_ you were takin’ pictures of me…” He murmured, his eyes fluttering closed as he relaxed further into Bucky.

Bucky sighed, rubbing his left hand up and down Steve’s arm. “I know it’s kinda corny…but I _do_ miss you when I’m working, and I—” Steve felt him tense up a little. “You know I’ve had…memory problems in the past, and I just—you’re just so _beautiful,_ and when I’m at home with you I wanna remember as much of you as I can, y’know?” 

Steve’s face got hot. “ _Bucky—_ ”

“—so I made a photo album, called, um—”

“ _Babydoll_? With a heart emoji?” Steve leaned forward to try and look Bucky in the face.Bucky laughed, reflexively scratching behind his ear.

“You are _not_ allowed to tease me when you literally had an art show about me.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to burst out laughing, smushing his pink face further into Bucky’s side.

* * *

Their arrival at the airport was a blur. They were shuffled through security. Steve vaguely remembered them milling around the Sky Lounge and poking at the buffet table before being lead onto the tarmac and up the steps of Pepper’s private charter jet. Steve didn’t exactly like flying private, especially now that he could blend in so easily as a civilian, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d been following the news, and Bucky’s missions, and he understood the security risks. And so now he was bundled up in a fluffy blanket, staring out a tiny window with Bucky beside him, his right hand firmly grasping the back of his neck, gently playing with the spot where his hair tapered off. The slow but steady movement of the plane as it taxied towards the runway started to lull him to sleep. His eyelids fluttered closed, soaking up the warmth of Bucky’s hand as it wandered further down his back. When his eyes opened again, they were starting their descent into McCarran. 

Pepper’s charity gala was an absolute blast. It was a showcase of music and art made by queer teens, who were in attendance and very proud to present their work (and rightfully so). Bucky spent half the night doing photo-ops with the kids, and Steve insisted on buying several paintings to bring back to New York. Despite the age of the artists involved, the party got out pretty late, and when they finally made it to their hotel room, Steve was ready to flop down onto the bed and pass out. 

“ _Buuuuck—_ ” Steve whined, “Carry me over the threshold! You’re already holding me—” 

“Then stop _wiggling_ so much!” After he heard the beep of the electronic lock clicking, Bucky nudged the door open with his right hip and hauled two armfuls of Steve Rogers into their room. The lights came on, then dimmed automatically, revealing a modern, minimally decorated space with crisp white linen and industrial metal furniture with a gold tint. 

Bucky let out a low whistle. “Wow, bud, pretty nice, huh?” 

Steve dramatically flopped his arms and legs as far open as he could while being carried bridal style, going completely limp. “Just toss me on to the bed already!” He huffed. Bucky shrugged and obliged, swinging him across the bed and ceremoniously dropping him. Steve _squeaked_ , landing with a light thud next to the pillows resting against the headboard. “ _Bucky—_ ”

“You asked, sweetheart.” Bucky smirked as he tugged his undershirt over his head. He sat on the edge of the bed beside Steve’s limp body. 

Steve reached out and grabbed at Bucky’s waist, trying (and failing) to pull him closer. “ _C’mon_ Buck—lessss’ go to _bedalready_ …” His voice became muffled as he nuzzled his face into Bucky’s lower back.

Bucky laughed softly as he bent over to take off his socks. “In a minute, doll. You gotta get undressed too, ya’know.” 

“Yeah-yeah-yeah…” He blew a raspberry into the air and turned back over onto his back—but not before swiftly sneaking a hand into Bucky’s pants pocket and snatching his phone. 

“ _Hey,_ punk! I thought we talked about this—” Steve chuckled at Bucky’s fake-angry tone; the same one he used to use when Steve would pick a fight with a guy they both knew was a jerk, and Bucky would pretend to be pissed about picking up the slack after Steve got his clock cleaned in some alleyway or behind a dumpster. 

Steve hummed as he unlocked Bucky’s phone and opened the photos app, heading straight for the “babydoll” album. He bit his lip as he began swiping through the pictures. The first one was a selfie they had taken at the Natural History Museum, in front of an asteroid. Steve’s smile was so big that his eyes were closed, while Bucky’s was small and warm, his stubbly cheek pressed up against the top of Steve’s head. 

The next photo was of Steve in the garden, oversized work gloves on his hands, a trowel and a watering can at his side. He was kneeling in the flower bed, leaning forward on his thighs. He remembered taking a break from working—he was still getting used to being out a breath all the time—and enjoying the smell of the flowers blooming all around him. The bright reds and pinks and yellows circled him in a sea of color. 

He swiped left again. 

Now it was him, standing in front of the stove, stirring a pot of stew and sprinkling in some spices. It was a moment of calm before the _click!_ of Bucky’s camera set him off. The lighting was warm, and the counter was messy with scraps of meat and vegetables, mixed with dirty knives and cutting boards. It was so _homey_ , he could practically smell their kitchen from the other side of the country. 

Steve felt his face getting hot as he swiped over to the next picture: It was shot from the bedroom looking into the bathroom. He was in the middle of brushing his teeth, wearing nothing but his socks and one of Bucky’s t-shirts. He was standing on his tippy-toes and leaning his left hand on the edge of the sink. The bottom of the shirt barely covered the top of his thighs.

“ _Bucky_ …” Steve whined, his free hand coming up to cover his face. He felt Bucky’s presence at the foot of the bed, leaning over him and beginning to tug his dress pants off. 

He laughed. “You don’t like my pictures, doll?”

Steve wiggled a little as Bucky undressed him. “Don’t _call_ me that—” He couldn’t manage to hold back his laughter towards the end. He gently kicked the rest of his pant leg off and Bucky dodged it, sneaking up the side of the bed and curling up next to him. Now they were both in their underwear, and Steve wanted to get as close to Bucky as possible to stave off the goosebumps traveling up his legs from the AC being on too high. 

Bucky propped an elbow up on the edge of the pillows and put his chin in his hand. “Do you wanna see my favorite one?” 

Steve smiled that kind of smile where it’s impossible for you to hide your teeth, no matter how hard you try. 

“Yeah, Buck, go ahead.” He nodded and gently handed him the phone. 

Bucky took a moment to inspect the screen, swiping back and forth, before holding it up between them.

It was him, curled up in his big comfy chair in the sunroom. His eyes were closed, his body relaxed. The sunlight was hitting the side of his face, illuminating the blonde highlights in his hair. His sketchbook was slipping out of his hand, but stayed nestled by his side. The pencil lines were faint, but he could just barely make out the drawing; Bucky sitting at Steve’s feet, nose in his book, his hair falling around his face. 

Steve reached out and steadied the phone with his fingertips. “How did you do this without waking me up?” 

Bucky grinned at him, then leaned over and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “‘Dunno, just got lucky I guess.”

Steve wanted to tell him _I got lucky too_ , but the words just didn’t come out in time. His gaze flicked upwards and he noticed something… _peculiar_. 

“Buck, there’s a mirror on the ceiling.” 

Bucky looked up and whistled again. “Wow, there sure is.” 

To be more accurate, the entire ceiling _was_ a mirror—or at least above the massive king-size bed it was. It had no frame, but was just a huge, uninterrupted pane of glass set directly into the dropped ceiling of the rest of the suite. 

Steve took a moment to look at their reflection— _them,_ SteveandBucky, curled up together in a nest of blankets on the biggest mattress in the world. It was the size of the Atlantic compared to what they used to sleep on, back in 1939 when they could barely pay rent on a one-bedroom in the neighborhood they grew up in. They looked so _small_ on that sea of pillows and blankets, smaller than Steve ever imagined he could be after the serum, and the war, and everything else a hundred years had done to them. They weren’t quite the same—Steve’s eyes followed the way the dim light bounced off of Bucky’s left shoulder—but they were good, and they were together, SteveandBucky. And that was the important thing.

They both looked up at the two of them cuddled up together, their bodies interlocked like puzzle pieces. Steve slowly dragged his foot up the side of Bucky’s thigh. He reached for the phone.

“Can we take a picture like this, Buck?” He gestured upwards, “In the mirror?” 

Bucky turned to look at him. His brow was furrowed, excited but confused. “Y’mean, for my album?” 

Steve smirked at him and gently punched him in the shoulder. “About time I got to help take a picture for it, huh Buck—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Bucky waved him off with a laugh and held the phone out slightly in front of them, right below Steve’s chin and around the center of Bucky’s chest. 

“Say cheese…” Bucky mumbled. Steve gave the best sultry smile that he could, curling himself in further towards Bucky, tucking his face halfway into his neck. He slung his right leg over both of Bucky’s thighs and felt Buck lean down and cup his right arm under his butt, holding him even closer. 

_Click!_

Just as Bucky snapped the picture, Steve felt him lean down and plant a kiss on the top of his head. When he pulled back, Bucky just smiled down at him and handed him the phone. 

“It’s perfect.”

“Yeah, that’s one for the album.” Bucky nodded. 

Steve laughed. “Y’mean _babydoll_?” 

Bucky scoffed at him, shoving his shoulder. “Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Carry-me-over-the-threshold’—”

“ _Hey!_ ” 

Eventually they fell asleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms, like they always had. Steve dreamt of an open window, curtains blowing in the breeze, and a handsome young man sitting on the fire escape with a cigarette, his silhouette framed by the purple sunset. 


End file.
